


fabric pills

by Anonymous



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Character Study, Gen, and need to be directly observed at any given moment to form an accurate conclusion, but they’re straight up bad scientists, the big gay experience applied to being a ghost, the fentons are Schrodinger’s parents: they are both good and bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28007346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: There's a hole in the seam of his comforter.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70
Collections: Anonymous





	fabric pills

He’s wearing a little hole into the corner of his comforter.

The soft, pilled fabric is starting to puff out at the seam as if he’s been pulling on it. It’s the sort of little rip that Jazz and Sam would want him to repair, either out of responsible ownership or reducing waste. 

It’s the sort of small problem his Mom and Dad might’ve way over-solved out of boredom before the portal activated. Maybe they'd make a "Fenton Fleece", or an "Un-Thinning Linen," some fabric that would last past nuclear fallout. But that was years ago, when they still worked on marketable inventions that couldn’t liquefy his spine.

Danny will replace it. Not yet, though. On the nights he can’t sleep, he rubs the seam between his thumb and index finger and feels the threads fraying.

He should tell them.

He knows his parents won’t mind. If he gives them even a hint of an explanation, they’ll reassure him and stand by him against the entire world. They’ve done it before. He doesn’t have a good excuse not to tell them, not when he knows they won’t actually follow through on their threats.

The hole gets bigger. The section where he can feel the thread between layers runs as long as his thumb, now.

It was almost easier when he didn’t know for sure if they’d accept him.

As soon as the thought surfaces, he knows it isn’t true. It’s way less terrifying to fight his parents in the streets when he knows he can call a time-out by detransforming or passing out.

He’s pretty sure that he could, at least. The circumstances aren’t the same anymore, and he doesn’t know if the 3-day kidnapping softened their opinions towards ghosts. He hadn’t waited long enough to see how they’d treat him afterward either. During the day he has a lot of good reasons to keep sneaking around, but at night he still feels like he’s coming up with excuses.

The rough skin at the edge of his nail catches on the fabric of his blanket, making a crackling noise. His thumb is going numb.

He’d definitely feel guilty for hurting them. Fentons have a tendency to blame ghosts first, themselves second, and coincidence never. Without any clear spectral involvement, he knows that his parents will obsess over how they could’ve stopped his near-death. And he’ll get grounded.

They’d all recover. Jazz wouldn’t let everyone fester. Maybe they’d all agree on new lab safety protocol, or go on another very uncomfortable ecto-blaster-free road-trip.

He’d probably get a lecture on the importance of honesty, and on not doing the full-body equivalent of sticking his finger in an electric socket. It’d be worth it for the back-up. And for the excused absences. And the lack of active hostility, and the tech support, and the ability to float around in the house, and unfettered access to the ghost zone, and-

There are a lot of great reasons he should’ve already told his parents.

None of them seem to matter when the sun comes up.

Sometimes, when it’s just him and his mom in the car, he’ll get the urge to spill everything. She’d probably crash or speed into a tree, so he bites his tongue. The desire is gone by the time they’re at a safe velocity of 0.

The seam is going to tear all the way through, soon. Once it does, it will start to unravel until the blanket is unusable. Or, at the very least, unwashable- it’ll fall apart once it’s tumbled around. A slow ruin pulled apart stitch-by-stitch or a couple of quick tears. The soft wooly part will pull away from the blue outside, and the foamy bits inside will unravel and get everywhere. Will it spread into the corners of his room and under his furniture, or will it clog up the lint-catcher in the dryer?

It doesn’t matter. Either way, the blanket will be useless unless he does something to salvage it soon. He can’t bring himself to pick up a needle and thread.  
He likes it as is. He likes the way the corner is pulling apart, and he can count the ladder of stitches. He likes the way his fingers start feeling a little intangible after a few minutes even as he lays there solid. It’s temporary, but it’s good.

But he also likes the blanket. It’s heavy and almost 2 inches thick, and he’s had it so long that he has no clue where he’s got it from. It’ll be difficult to replace.

A heavy-sounding vehicle rolls by outside. He can hear a door shut, even several floors up.

His parents are definitely in their room. It isn’t them getting home, armed to the teeth. He’s not doing anything suspicious, he’s just laying in bed. 

He snaps to attention anyway, tenses the muscles in his legs to double-check their solidity, and lets go of the blanket for a few seconds.

On one hand, he’s at least brought out of his tiny, existential blanket-induced crisis. On the other, he’s pretty sure he was about to fall asleep soon, and he’s only got a few hours til dawn.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry! I love Maddie and Jack in canon, but sometimes… ya gotta. You know?
> 
> Tepid take of the day: if say homophobic or ableist garbage to your kids, you might not just be spreading a shitty opinion, you might be actively telling them your love is conditional, and they don’t meet the conditions. And that’s awful, even if they’re closeted or undiagnosed. 
> 
> Somewhat hotter (and of significantly less real-world importance) take: that still applies to ghosts, because while there’s no evidence to suggest ghosts can pretend to be human really well, good scientists know you can’t prove a negative, and literally all your tech keeps registering danny as a ghost and ho l y s h i t t e r o n i
> 
> anyways i love undriven character studies and weird metaphors. also im trans and i have this really nice blanket i've got to mend


End file.
